


The First Time They Talked

by ValkyrieShepard



Series: Nephilim Family [16]
Category: DmC: Devil May Cry
Genre: Alcohol Abuse, Incest, M/M, Prostitution, Self Harm, Twincest, non con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-03-01 15:40:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2778587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ValkyrieShepard/pseuds/ValkyrieShepard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had always dreaded it, but Dante knew they had to talk about their relationship at some point.<br/>He just hadn't known what it would set loose inside him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so there's no rape in this, but there is some... rough stuff, please look at the tags for trigger warnings and be careful if it affects you. 
> 
> Set a few weeks after [The First Time Dante Stayed](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2084526)

Certain thoughts had plagued Dante for a while now.

 

It was very much unlike him. Normally he wouldn’t think about anything long enough for it to bother him but this… this was different.

 

Vergil and he had changed their relationship forever.

 

At first Dante had thought he could manage it, could ignore the way he felt about his brother. But then they had almost died, had kissed and Vergil had briefly tried to taked over the world. Dante had risked everything to get him back, but afterwards there had been no denying it any longer - the way they both felt about each other.

 

And after Vergil had recovered and they had been in their own apartment - alone - for the first time, they had crossed that final line.

 

They’d been talking, joking, as they unpacked the few possessions they had. Dante had thought Vergil was rearranging the couch when he had turned around and his brother was suddenly right in front of him. It hadn’t startled him, as it should have, almost as if he had expected it.

Vergil had gently caressed the side of his face and that’s when Dante had known what they were about to do. He had been scared out of his mind, while simultaneously being completely at ease. This was his brother, he had lain his life into Vergil’s hands the moment they met and after everything… Dante knew he was safe now.

 

They had both been torn between the sheer need to do this, and the desire to have it last for as long as possible. Frantic kisses were interrupted by gentle touches, lingering glances followed by rapidly losing their clothes.

When they were both finally bare before each other, they stopped. Just watching, taking it all in.

 

Vergil’s next kiss had almost made Dante cry. The sheer, raw emotion in it had just been too much, too new for him. He’d had sex before, yes, but he had never made love. Had never thought himself capable of that emotion, but knew that this was what it had to be.

 

His brother had noticed - of course he had - and stopped. Cupping his face again, silently asking if he was all right, and Dante could only nod.

 

Feeling his brother inside him had been like finding his missing half. He was finally complete again.

Something had always been missing before, only Dante hadn’t realized it, had helplessly tried to fill it with booze, sex, drugs. This - Vergil was that missing piece.

 

They were made for each other, moving in complete sync, knowing exactly what the other wanted. There was no need for talk, their touches, their kisses told them everything.

 

Vergil had come inside him, both hands intertwined with Dante’s, their foreheads resting against each other and for that one moment, everything had been perfect.

 

But then it was over, and reality came rushing back. Dante had left their bed, fleeing into the shower, not knowing what to feel.

 

Dante knew that he _should_ feel bad about this. Incest. It was wrong. So very, very wrong.

 

But then why did he keep ending up in his brother’s bed? Why did he let him have Dante every which way?

 

It didn’t _feel_ wrong.

 

Nevertheless they didn’t kiss outside of that bed, rarely even touched each other. It was an intricate dance they did, and none of them knew the steps.

 

Dante kept debating it in his head. Should he continue with this, with what he felt was right? Or should he accept what society told them and move out, as far away from his brother as possible? Because he knew that would be the only way he could make himself stop being with Vergil.

 

Only recently Dante had stayed in his brother’s bed overnight - for the first time. Vergil had wanted him to. That pleading look had almost broken his heart, he had been physically unable to deny his request.

 

He did so again tonight.

 

As he was lazily brushing through his brother’s hair he tried to keep all other thoughts at bay. He just wanted to enjoy this.

Vergil was lying on his side, turned towards Dante and watching his brother’s movements intently.

 

“What is this?”, Vergil asked suddenly.

 

“This would be me admiring your hair… though it’s not as amazing as mine”, he added quickly.

 

Vergil took Dante’s hand in his, stilling the movement. He pulled it down to his chest, all playfulness, all the pleasure gone from his face.

 

“No. I mean this”, he said again. “Us.”

 

“I don’t know what you…” Dante tried to pull back his hand, but his brother wouldn’t let go. This was apparently everything he had been scared of in one conversation. For some reason he wished they weren’t naked right now. “I don’t know what you mean.”

 

“Bullshit. Of course you do. This is wrong, Dante.”

 

Somehow, hearing it out loud made it even worse. He finally managed to free his hand and he sat up, pulling the blanket with him so he could cover himself.

 

“Please don’t-”, Vergil was following the movement, suddenly looking so scared.

 

“I won’t go I…”, Dante sighed, resting his back against the headboard. He really wanted to leave though, to run from this conversation. “I have been thinking about this. A lot.”

 

“And?” Vergil sat cross legged opposite him, the other half of the blanket covering him up as well. The issue was like a barrier between them.

 

“I…”, Dante hesitated. “I was so close to running away about a million times already.”

 

“And yet you’re still here.”

 

Vergil was being Captain Obvious tonight it seemed. He wasn’t leading the conversation at all, which could only mean one thing: He was just as scared as Dante was.

 

“Because you are”, Dante said softly. “And I love you.”

 

Vergil pressed his lips together. He had never said it, but Dante knew what he felt. He didn’t need to hear it, it would most likely only make things harder. Perhaps he should never have said it either.

 

“Not in the way you’re supposed to love me”, Vergil said.

 

“No.”

 

“We can’t keep doing this.” His brother had averted his gaze, the way he had said it not at all convincing. Dante wanted so badly to reach out, to touch, kiss, love.

 

“I don’t see you leaving either”, he said instead.

 

“This isn’t about me-”

 

“Fuck you Vergil, of course it is.” Dante could tell his brother was scared, too. “This is about us, which includes you. It was you who fucked me, who came inside me just minutes ago, who has done this for weeks, who keeps doing it.”

 

“Dante please just…” Vergil was grasping at his own hair in frustration. He could understand but there was no reason to push this all on him. They were in this together. “We have to stop.”

 

He almost sounded like he meant it this time. It broke Dante’s heart.

 

“Do you…” He grasped at the blanket, twisting it. “Do you want to?”

 

“It’s not about that, Dante.”

 

“But you always say… that we’re not human”, he said, perhaps grasping at straws but it just felt like this was the right thing to do. “This… maybe this is normal… for us. It does feel that way… doesn’t it?”

 

He said everything so slowly, so scared that Vergil would run at any second. But it was what he felt in his heart to be right.

 

Years had passed before Vergil finally answered.

 

“I’m sorry, Dante.”

 

_No please what are you saying?_

 

“This can’t happen anymore.”

 

“What?” Dante felt as if this was happening to someone else, as if he wasn’t in his own body at all and this was all some terrible nightmare. “What are you saying?”

 

Vergil got up, showing his back to him as he slipped into the nearest pair of pants.

 

“You should go or… or I should go”, he said as he buttoned them up. “It’s over. It has to be.”

 

“Don’t do this Vergil.” Dante followed his brother, tried to reach out, but he recoiled - recoiled - from him. This was worse than any physical pain he had ever experienced. “This can’t be it. Please…”

 

“But it is.”

 

Vergil just left him standing there, vanishing into the night. He was close, so close to completely breaking down, but suddenly his body moved on its own. Slipping into his usual clothes, grabbing whatever seemed useful at the moment, and he was gone.

 

He barely had any money, or anything, really, but he was good at this. This was the way he had grown up - on the run. He could make this work.

Stealing a bus ticket was easy, especially when people were so careless as to leave it sticking out of their backpack. He didn’t care where he went, as long as it was away from here. His entire body was screaming that this was wrong. This was not where he was meant to be, and yet the one person he had ever felt a connection to had told him to leave.

 

Dante curled up in his seat, bag propped against the window to use as a pillow, but he couldn’t find any sleep. All he could think about was the way Vergil had recoiled from him, the way he had touched Dante just hours ago. It hadn’t felt like his brother was ashamed, or that he didn’t mean every touch…

 

_Why, Vergil…_

He just watched the world change around him. Soon enough they had left the city behind, drove along fields until they reached another. He didn’t get up, simply let the motions calm him, clear his thoughts until there was nothing left. Breaking down wasn’t an option. Not here, not now.

His mind was blank, he had no idea how many hours had passed, but it was night again when he was finally kicked out of the bus.

 

Last stop on the line.

 

The air was crisp here, and Dante shivered in his thin top and coat. There wasn’t much here, not even a large bus depot. The vehicle was gone already, and so Dante stumbled along the road, sleep deprivation making every step a challenge.

There were a few buildings in the distance, though it seemed the town - if it could be called that - had been built around the main road here. As he got closer he noticed that the motel, gas station and bar seemed to be the largest buildings here.

 

Thank god this place had a bar.

 

He had lifted some money off of the poor guy whose bus ticket he had stolen. It wasn’t much, but enough to get him drunk. He sorely needed it.

 

The bar was just what he had expected. Dimly lit, dirty, almost empty except for a few truckers that had to stay here overnight. He sat down at the bar stool, letting his bag drop next to it with a soft thud, strangely loud, even over the country music coming from the jukebox.

 

“Just give me whatever’s strongest”, he told the bartender, getting whiskey in return. Sure. He could work with that.

 

The first sip was sharp going down his throat, but at least it warmed him up a little. His skin was still covered in goosebumps, wherever he was, he needed warmer clothes, and fast. Though feeling numb seemed a better option than whatever he would let himself feel if he thought about his brother too much.

 

_Don’t go there, Dante_

 

He silenced that thought by downing the contents of his glass, immediately ordering another and doing the same. Good, this was working, his lack of sleep speeding up the process of getting drunk.

 

“Can I get you another one?”, a voice from beside him said.

 

Trucker. Mid forties. Looking for a fuck. Dante knew the type too well.

 

He hesitated, hadn’t done this in a while, but after this drink he’d be completely broke.

 

“Sure”, he said eventually, accepting his… fifth glass of whiskey? He couldn’t even tell anymore, the alcohol made him tipsy already, his vision slightly fuzzy.

 

“You look like you need a place to stay.” The man had settled down on the stool beside him. “I could help with that.”

 

“That’s mighty kind of you”, Dante replied. It didn’t matter. He was numb already. Though he supposed a bed for the night might be nice.

 

“I am a very kind person. So…” Here it went. “How does someone like you end up in a place like this?”

 

Dante downed the last of the glass’ contents and turned to really look at the man now. He wasn’t _that_ unattractive, Dante had had worse.

 

“Does it matter?”, he asked in turn. “Are we gonna leave or what?”

 

The man laughed and stood, leading the way out of the bar.

 

“I like you.”

 

The motel was just across the street. Decent, not something Dante could afford in his current state. He vaguely remembered Vergil handing him a credit card, but he hadn’t taken it with him. Then he’d know where he was, not that it was important, he had been the one to kick Dante out after all.

 

He couldn’t think about Vergil. Not now. Not when he entered the motel room behind the trucker, knowing exactly what he wanted.

 

“So”, the man said as he shrugged out of his jacket. “How much?”

 

“A hundred”, Dante said, knowing it was too much considering the state he was in. He had seen himself in a window, it wasn’t good. Though in certain ways, it added to his attractiveness.

 

“No offence, kid. You’re not worth that much. Fifty.”

 

“Fine.” If he was allowed to stay overnight it would be fine. He could work with fifty.

 

The trucker pulled out the bill and handed it to Dante, who shoved it in his jeans’ pocket. He took a deep breath, it had been a really long time since he had to do this.

If he was honest with himself, after finding Vergil he had thought he would never have to go back to it. Even back then it had been quite some time since he had needed it to survive, he had even managed to earn enough money to get a trailer, the first time in his life since he had a solid roof over his head. One that he owned himself.

 

And yet here he was. Trailer destroyed, the apartment not an option for him to return to, broke and selling himself.

 

The trucker was all over him already. At least he understood the unspoken rule that there would be no kissing on the lips, Dante could tell it wasn’t his first time doing it either. Standing behind him, he had taken off Dante’s coat, letting it drop to the floor and already he was kissing his neck, letting his hands run all over his body.

 

Dante had always been able to endure, if not even enjoy this if the person was attractive enough, but today was different. He was repulsed by this man’s touch, he just wanted it to stop.

 

“First time?”, the man breathed in his ear.

 

“No.” Dante heard the sound of a zipper, some rustling, and the next thing he felt was the trucker’s erection against his ass. He wanted to scream.

 

“Come on…” An arm wrapped around his waist, keeping him in place. The man’s other hand came to palm his crotch. “Relax, I can tell you want it.”

 

“ _Vergil_ …”, the name tumbled from his lips in a strangled whisper. He hadn’t wanted to say it, it almost seemed like his body had taken over.

 

“Who’s Vergil?”, the trucker asked, already rubbing himself against him.

 

“My… my brother.” He had no idea why he told this man the truth. Maybe he hoped he would be so disgusted by him he would stop.

 

“Your brother? And you say his name now?” Dante could feel him shrug. “You’re into some kinky shit, but whatever.”

 

He was fumbling with the buttons on Dante’s jeans now, trying to get them open. But all Dante could think about was Vergil. The way he had touched him, had loved him. Worshipping his body with his tongue, his fingers, every touch pure pleasure for him.

Not like this. This was wrong, this was making his skin crawl, the hot breath on his neck felt like it would burn him.

 

“No, I can’t do this.” He managed to get out of the man’s hold, pushing him away.

 

“All right, all right…”, he seemed to be completely oblivious to the struggle Dante was going through. “I’ll give you another 25, how does that sound? I’ll make it fifty if you let me lose the condom.”

 

Dante hesitated, a certain memory suddenly overwhelming him. He had pushed it so far down, had almost convinced himself it hadn’t happened.

He shook his head, frantically trying to get back to the here and now.

 

“No. I can’t… I can’t…”

 

He wasn’t the same person anymore. He had known what it was like to be loved, and he couldn’t go back.

 

“Maybe you should have thought about that before”, the man’s voice was raised and he pushed Dante against the wall, now aggressively trying to undo his jeans. “I’m getting my money’s worth.”

 

For a moment Dante thought he was weak again, young, trying to survive on the streets, but it passed quickly. He was Nephilim. He didn’t have to do anything.

He pushed the trucker away, so hard he fell onto the floor. For a brief moment he considered doing more, but he had almost killed his brother once in his rage, he couldn’t risk it. Even if that man perhaps deserved it.

 

Instead Dante grabbed his things, and ran.

 

Ignoring the man calling after him, demanding his money back, ignoring everything else around him, he ran as far as his legs would take him, along the road that led out of the town, always running until his legs wouldn’t support him anymore. And even then, he could feel demonic energy running through him, and he kept going, across fields and farms until eventually he found himself in another town.

 

It was like night and day, and not just because the sun was rising. This was like that movie he had watched with Vergil after he had come back from killing Bob Barbas. What had it been called? Pleasantville?

His brother had barely paid attention, and he hadn’t been that fond of the movie either, but the way they had been curled up on the couch together made him sit through the whole thing. What he wouldn’t give to be in that place again. Even if it meant fighting Mundus once more.

 

Dante finally stopped running and took in the town around him. It was like everyone had agreed to use pastel colours on their houses, had bought white picket fences from the same place and generally were just stuck in the fifties. At least when it came to looks. For a moment he was scared he had actually ended up in the movie, but he saw posters for a festival in town, which explained the people actually walking around in fifties style clothes.

 

It was all too much.

 

He was close to his breaking point, was surprised that he hadn’t reached it already. At least he had enough money to buy more whiskey.

Even the people here were nicer, it seemed, as the clerk asked him if he was all right. Of course he wasn’t, it was obvious to anyone who saw him. Hair messed up, skin pale, bags under his eyes. There was a bruise there too, though he had no idea how it had gotten there.

 

Dante ignored the question, instead asked where the cheapest motel was. Of course however cheap it was, he couldn’t afford it. It was time to see how good he still was at pickpocketing.

 

As it turned out. Pretty good. A few hours later he had enough to perhaps last him for a few days. He almost felt guilty about it, almost. If he were capable of something like this now. But all he could do, once he was finally alone in a small motel room, was break down.

 

He dropped his bag, and at the moment it hit the floor, all strength left him. He fell, had to crawl over the floor to make it to the corner of the room, hiding between it and the wall. The bottle of whiskey was already open, before he knew, it was halfway gone.

 

What had he done? He had almost let this man… defile him.

 

Tears were streaming down his face as he remembered the trucker’s touch, his hot breath on his skin. He couldn’t stop the sobs wracking his body.

 

All this had shown him was what he had already known: He loved his brother. He wanted to be with him, have only him touch him like that for the rest of his life.

But Vergil denied what was between them, was disgusted by their acts, and didn’t even want him around anymore. How could he live like this, without his other half?

 

He couldn’t.

 

At the moment all he could feel was pain, desperation. He was lost without his brother, without his love. He had found something he never thought he would have in his life, and now that it was gone it was all just… numb.

 

The way it used to be.

 

Dante let his head fall back against the wall with a thud, the pain not registering with him. He needed more for that to happen.

He was messed up in so many ways, he knew that. In the end, even if Vergil could see past their relation, he would leave him anyway, right…? That trucker hadn’t defiled him… he had done that himself long ago.

The thought made him raise his hand, the one that wasn’t still clinging to the whiskey bottle, to move to that spot on his chest it knew so well. He dug in with the nail of his finger, until he could finally feel the pain, sharp, red-hot inside him. Dante watched the blood well up, dragged his finger across the skin to widen the wound.

 

His top was soaked, but he didn’t stop. This, at least, was something real. Something to distract him, something he hadn’t done in such a long while, but it seemed today was just a day for old habits.

 

Vergil had made him so strong, made him able to keep fighting all those demons. The one that scared him, the ones that were more powerful than he had been. All of that strength was gone now - how would he even survive?

 

Dante watched the wound close again, his healing triggered even though he hadn’t wanted it to. His body wasn’t even under his control anymore. But so he simply started anew. Cut himself open, watched the blood flow, waited for it to close just to do the same thing over and over again.

 

Maybe Vergil was right. He was a freak, perhaps even among Nephilim. He was a whore and a thief, he was worthless. Surely if his brother had known he used to sell his body he would never have touched him, would never have taken him in.

 

“Please Vergil, _please_ …” His speech was slurred, desperate, calling out to the empty room. Why did he bother? It was all over, he would never see him again.

 

He didn’t leave the room for what felt like days, didn’t even move from his spot in the corner, only managed to fall on his side, spilling the whiskey in the process. Blood was all over his chest now, in various states of dryness. It was on the floor around him too, some of it even fresh when he cut open his arms, too. His body of course didn’t reveal any signs of this, the wounds always healed, and Dante hated it.

 

Everyone should see him for what he was.

 

In his almost delirious state he didn’t hear the knock on his door, didn’t register it opening or the figure that came inside.

 

“Dante! No no no no, _Dante_!”

 

Someone was kneeling next to him, shaking him before pulling him up. Arms wrapped around him held him close. It must have been a dream. The feeling was so familiar but it couldn’t be. It was over.

Even if it was a dream, he didn’t deserve this. He wanted to push himself away, but found that he couldn’t move.

 

“Dante, what have you done?”, it was Vergil’s voice. “What have _I_ done?”

 

It felt like he was floating, and only when he felt the soft mattress of the bed beneath him he realized that he had been picked up. To him it was strange not to feel the hard floor anymore, wrong, he didn’t even deserve this.

He briefly blacked out, but when he came to again Vergil came into his focus, holding a wet towel. It couldn’t be. It had to be a dream.

 

Dante was numb again, he hardly felt the towel drag over his skin, cleaning off the blood that still stuck to it. What he did feel were Vergil’s hands. They seemed unnaturally hot, or maybe he was just so cold. After all he had never even managed to turn on the heating inside, it hadn’t seemed important.

 

“Dante can you hear me?” It sounded like Vergil was scared. Only dream-Vergil would be.

 

“This… this isn’t real, is it?” He tried to wave off his brother’s touch. He was disgusting, this shouldn’t be happening. But once more, his body refused to move.

 

“It is. I’m here, Dante. I’m so sorry I-” Vergil never cried. That tear rolling down his cheek was just proof that this was still a dream. “I should never have… I… Please come home.”

 

“No. The real Vergil knows I’m disgusting. He wouldn’t say these things.”

 

“I am the real Vergil”, the figure insisted, holding Dante’s hand to his chest as he had done what seemed like ages ago. He felt real… “Why… why on earth would I think you’re disgusting?”

 

“Because I fuck my brother”, his laugh was humourless, and now he realized he was shaking. All of the secrets he had kept from him, they were all shaken free now. “Because I’m a fucking whore, a homeless prostitute who cuts himself when it all gets too much. A freak, disgusting. That man I… I let him touch me. I would have almost let him do more.”

 

“What?” Vergil was stunned. Of course he would be. And any moment he would leave for good. Why had he come here in the first place? It didn’t make sense.

 

“Disgusting… filth… disgusting…”, Dante could only say it over and over again, because that was what he was, and Vergil needed to know.

 

“No you’re not”, Vergil interrupted his rambling. Suddenly Dante was in his arms again, being held close, taking in that clean scent. “I’m so sorry, brother. I should have found you sooner, I- I should have found you sooner.”

 

Should have found him sooner? He wasn’t pushing him away? Dante was so confused, he couldn’t do this anymore. He was so, so exhausted.

 

The warmth of his brother against him finally made him relax enough so he could let himself pass out. And when he woke up, he was still there.

 

Dante’s head was clearer now, his desire to hurt himself had lessened, the alcohol was out of his system. But it only made him realize the gravity of what he had told his brother. He knew everything now.

 

As he always did, he felt ashamed now, of the way he had acted. But this was the first time someone had seen him like this, or had cared enough to notice.

 

Vergil was still touching him. Holding him.

 

He was awake, but Dante couldn’t speak to him. What could he possibly say?

 

“You have done this before.” It was a statement. Vergil knew, of course he did.

 

Dante nodded against his brother’s chest anyway.

 

“Have you ever… After we’ve met?”

 

He shook his head. He hadn’t needed to. Not when he had finally found purpose in his life, and people that actually cared about him.

 

Vergil’s grip on him tightened.

 

“Please promise me that…”, Vergil swallowed, and Dante could hear his brother’s heart beat rapidly in his chest. “Promise me that you’ll come to me if you ever feel like doing it again, okay?”

 

But that would mean they’d have to be together. Dante knew he couldn’t live with Vergil if he wasn’t allowed to touch, to love. This was agony, yes, but being together without actually _being together_ , that would be worse.

 

“But it’s over”, Dante said, his voice cracking.

 

“I was hasty I was… wrong I…”, Vergil hesitated. “I didn’t think you’d… I’m sorry Dante. Please forgive me.”

 

“But you remember what I told you? What I’ve done… What I had to do.”

 

Vergil gently pushed him away, and for a moment Dante’s stomach dropped. Was he leaving?

 

“Dante I wish… I wish I had found you sooner, so you wouldn’t have to have gone through that. But you did, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. It doesn’t make you worthless or disgusting, you’re none of that okay? We can work through this. Together.”

 

During that speech Dante’s eyes had filled with tears again. With what strength he had, he was clinging to Vergil’s shirt.

 

“Vergil I can’t…” He had to take a deep breath to keep himself able to talk. “I can’t be with you and… _not_ be with you. I just can’t.”

 

“Neither can I.”

 

“But you said-”

 

“Because I was scared”, Vergil interrupted. “Of what I was feeling. Because it just… Feels right. And it’s not supposed to.”

 

“How did you find me?” It had occurred to him that it should have been impossible for Vergil. He hadn’t used any credit cards, had run cross country in his frenzy to get away.  

 

“I… When I got back and you were gone, I panicked”, Vergil said. “I tried to find you but it was impossible. Should have known you were good at covering your tracks. I had a panic attack…”

 

Dante was about to speak out, he hadn’t known his brother got those. He always seemed so calm and composed, in control of everything around him. But Vergil waved him off.

 

“Until I… It’s quite hard to describe”, he said, frowning as he searched for the right words. “I simply felt your presence, and an urgency. I got into the car, and just followed it.”

 

“You just… felt me?”

 

“I knew you were in danger. Somehow I knew.” Vergil brushed the hair out of Dante’s face with a gentleness he rarely let show.  “I believe that there must be a reason for this. Why would I have felt it otherwise?”

 

“We’re Nephilim”, Dante said. “We have powers, maybe it’s just that.”

 

“But I didn’t feel it before. Only after I realized…” Vergil trailed off.

 

Realized that he loved him. He couldn’t say it, not even now. It didn’t matter. Dante had hope again.

 

Silence settled between them. Dante scanned his brother’s face, taking in that worried look he got from him. He let his finger brush over Vergil’s brow, unfurrowing it. His brother smiled, as did he.

 

“What now?”, Dante’s voice was barely a whisper.

 

“First things first.”

 

Vergil cupped his face with both hands, keeping him still as he brushed his thumbs over Dante’s cheeks. His heartbeat rose as his brother leaned in, slowly, giving him time to protest but why would he? This was where he was meant to be, he was sure of it now.

 

In a weird way, this felt like their first kiss. Hesitant in the beginning, just lips on lips, before it grew into something more. Dante had to hold on to Vergil’s arms because he felt about to burst with need for his brother. He tried to pour all of it into the kiss.

 

“Will you come home?”, Vergil mumbled against his lips.

 

“To be together?”, Dante asked. He needed to be sure.

 

“Yes.”

 

His strength rushed back at the word, his body finally allowing itself to completely heal. He rushed to wraps his arms around Vergil’s neck, pulling him into another kiss.

 

“I love you. Of course I’ll come.”

 

They had a lot to work through. Both of them had their problems. But Vergil accepted him, even now that he knew everything. Maybe now Dante could actually work through this, instead of just shutting it away deep inside him. He felt that with Vergil’s help, he could do anything. And whatever his brother needed, he would supply.

 

They’d be together now. They’d be okay. Maybe not perfect, but perhaps that was something they could achieve some day.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How did Vergil find his brother, and what happened after they got back home?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Description of non con, please take care while you read okay!

What had he done?

 

Vergil was shivering when he entered the store again, after aimlessly wandering the streets of the city for about an hour. But when he returned, Dante was gone.

 

The hole that had existed within him his entire life, that he had tried to fill by any means necessary, and that had been gone when Dante had come into his life, was back again. With a force he hadn’t expected, it hit him so hard he fell to his knees in the middle of their unfinished living room.

 

Why had he told him to leave?

 

As he braced himself against the floor, feeling the soft rug beneath him, he simply knew that he had been wrong.

 

He had fought his attraction to his brother for a long time but after their kiss, after Dante had saved him, he had finally given in. And he had never regretted it, until they had time to breathe again, until they had shared a kiss in the supermarket.

For most people, their different hair, slightly different features was enough so that they didn’t have to hide, but that day… someone saw and _realized_. The look Vergil had seen in their eyes was enough to make him doubt for the first time.

 

And once Vergil started something, he would always do it properly.

He couldn’t sleep, always, always worrying about what others might think, if they were doing the right thing, if they should just stop. But as soon as Dante was in his bed again, as soon as they were joined those thoughts vanished, or at least pushed aside. He loved his brother, and the thought of them not being together hurt too much.

So he was selfish, at least for a little while longer. But those thoughts festered inside him like poison, until they finally burst out, and he did the single most stupid thing he could have ever done: He had voiced his concerns and had talked himself into thinking it was the best course of action to break it off.

 

How foolish.

 

Vergil had been wrong about so many things, had thought to save the humans he had to rule them, so for a long time he hadn’t trusted himself anymore. If he had been wrong about that, who was he to think he would be right in this case?

 

But now… now everything was worse. Dante was gone.

 

He _had_ to get him back.

 

When he went outside this time he remembered to take his coat, but it didn’t take him long to realize that he had no idea where he might have gone. After all they had been through, Vergil still knew surprisingly little about his brother. Except that he loved him.

 

For a while he wandered the streets aimlessly once more, before trying the logical places where Dante might have gone - the bus station, train station, airport. He even started asking people about him but he eventually realized that there was no way he would be able to track him down. He should have known that he was good at hiding his tracks.

 

Vergil was on his way back again, thinking that maybe he could hack into the city’s camera feeds to try and find him, when his body finally overwhelmed him.

The thought of him never seeing his brother again, and that it was all his fault… It was too much.

 

“No no no…” He tried to stop the panic attack in its tracks, but deep down he knew it was already too late.

 

This time he didn’t slowly let himself fall, his knees hit the concrete below him hard, but the pain wasn’t enough to ground him. His brain was telling him: you can’t breathe.

He hated this, _hated_ it with a burning passion because it was illogical, it was all in his head and he knew that, but all the while he wasn’t able to stop it. Couldn’t stop himself fighting for every breath and still not getting it, couldn’t stop his damn heart beating so fast or his vision clouding.

It felt like he was dying, and he had to fight to keep telling himself that he was still here, that this was _his_ body and not someone else’s, though right now it didn’t feel like it.

 

His vision cleared a little, but tears were still streaming down his face. Vergil had clawed at the ground beneath him, his fingers were bloody, but still his breath hadn’t returned to normal.

 

He had to find his brother, had to do _something_ why wouldn’t his body let him?

 

This time, he was close to giving up, to convincing himself that this was surely the end for him. But as the first rays of the new sun hit the streets he felt something… A strange sensation, but a comforting one. For a short while he felt as if his brother was right there next to him, they were in their bed, just watching each other.

 

It was enough to finally calm himself down enough so that logical thoughts could form again. But when he could breathe somewhat normally he realized Dante’s presence felt different. He was in danger, Vergil just knew.

 

The thought spurred him into motion, ignoring his bloodied fingers as he sprinted back to their apartment, and into his car. He hesitated for a moment - he didn’t know where he needed to go - but suddenly it was just there, like a fact he had always known. And so he just drove, following his senses through the countryside, to places he had never seen before but that he instinctively knew.

 

Until finally he arrived in a place that could only be described as a rest stop with a few houses around it. He didn’t know why Dante would be here, but if his brother was as distressed as he was, he might not have even known where he was going.

The place had a bar, and if he knew anything about his brother, that’s where he’d be. His heart was beating faster again, but not in the way it had during his panic attack. All he wanted, all he _needed_ was to see his brother again.

 

But the place was empty, save for a few truckers.

 

Vergil couldn’t deny the disappointment he felt, but this was a lead, anyhow. He walked up to the bartender and pulled out his phone, showing him Dante’s picture. The one Dante had taken of himself ‘in case Vergil missed him’.

 

“Have you seen him?”, he asked, slipping the man some money. It always helped.

 

“He was here. But you might wanna ask Tom.” The bartender nudged his head in the general direction of one of the truckers in the bar.

 

Vergil frowned, but walked up to him, showing him the same picture.

 

“Have you-”

 

“I heard you”, the man interrupted. His stubby fingers were clinging to a whiskey glass, and there was a bruise under his eye. He smirked as he looked up at him. “You Vergil?”

 

“How do you know my name?”, Vergil’s voice was low, threatening. What did this man know about his brother and why did he make him so uncomfortable? Something was very wrong.

 

“Cause that little shit was moaning your name when I was about to fuck him.”

 

“You- _what_?”

 

Pure, fiery rage built up inside him and he grabbed the man by his collar. He pulled him out of his booth and slammed him into the wall. Vergil could feel demonic energy coursing through him. This man had dared to touch his brother, he would kill him if he had done more.

He summoned an energy sword, close enough to press into the skin of the man’s neck.

 

“What the fuck?”, the trucker was panicking, as he should be. “What the fuck are you?”

 

“I’m the one who will kill you if you don’t tell me right now where my brother is.”

 

“Shit… shit…” It sounded as if the man was truly about to shit himself. “It was just business, just a fuck for money but he said he couldn’t do it and then he ran off with my money, I swear I didn’t do anything, I don’t know where he went!”

 

Pathetic. The man was pathetic.

 

Vergil let his summoned sword move backwards before letting it slam into the wooden wall next to the man. Who actually pissed himself. As he stepped back from the mess Vergil removed his gloves - he had a fresh pair in his car - and left the bar.

 

He stood outside for a moment, letting the cool air calm him. Dante was strong, no one could force him to do anything, which could only mean he had volunteered to do this. To sleep with someone for money. Why?

He shivered. Not because it was cold, but because of the implication that came with it. He had grown up on the streets, hadn’t he? What did he have to do to survive?

 

There was no one to punish for what happened back then. The urge to go back and kill that pathetic, whimpering mess was so strong.

 

Vergil pushed the thought away, forced himself to get back into his car and to concentrate on that presence he had felt earlier. It had worked once, Dante had been here, he just had to do it again.

He concentrated on the last time they had been happy. They hadn’t found a rhythm yet, hadn’t acknowledged what was between them, but every time they were in bed together, all that seemed to vanish.

 

“Hey Vergil”, Dante had distracted him from staring. It might be incredibly narcissistic to think so, but Dante was _beautiful_.

 

“What is it?”

 

“Did you hear about the guy whose whole left side was cut off?” By the childish grin on Dante’s face Vergil could already tell this was going somewhere ridiculous. But he liked that side of his brother, he was the only one who could make him genuinely laugh. And until he had done it, he hadn’t known he had missed it.

 

“No, what about him?” He’d play along this time.

 

“Well he’s all right now.” Dante was hiding his grin behind his hand, pressed down to suppress his laughter.

 

Vergil had tried to fight it, had very much wanted to roll his eyes at how terrible that joke had been but seeing his brother like this, simply _adorable_ , let all his walls come down. He rolled onto his back, laughing out loud and hiding his face behind his hands.

 

“You are impossible, Dante”, he managed to say when he had calmed down a bit. “That was the worst joke I’ve ever heard.”

 

“And yet you still laughed.” His brother was sneaking up onto his chest, moving further up until their faces were separated by only inches. “I really like your laugh.”

 

“And I really like your lips.” Vergil glanced down at them for emphasis. His brother’s body felt perfect against him, the right shape - they just _fit_ together - his warmth filled him, too.

 

“If that’s a hint, it’s not a very subtle one.”

 

And yet Dante still leaned in for a kiss, smiling as he did so.

 

A tear rolled down Vergil’s cheek as he thought of that moment, forcing himself to concentrate on the way Dante’s body was pressed against his. The cold, the fact that his head was pressed against the steering wheel of his car made it hard, but suddenly it hit him again. The way it had done before, and he knew where to go.

 

He put on new gloves, because he couldn’t go outside without them, and started the car. He followed that feeling as he had done earlier, but it seemed like he needed to go cross country… Had Dante been in such a panic that he hadn’t even followed roads anymore?

He had to find a way around the fields, had to turn around a few times until he finally knew he had made it to the right town. It had a Pleasantville vibe to it, and Vergil had to smile as he remembered how they had watched it. He had pretended to not pay attention, had pretended to be doing some hacking as he knew Dante wouldn’t be able to understand the difference. When really, all he had done was revel in the fact that they had been intertwined on the couch, before they had first kissed, before all this.

 

It had almost seemed simpler then.

 

Vergil finally arrived at a motel, following Dante’s presence that seemed so strong now, he had to be close.

The door to his motel room wasn’t locked, but what he saw inside was worse than anything he could have imagined.

 

“Dante what have you done?”

 

His brother was on the floor in a fetal position, blood was all around him, on his body, on the carpet, but there were no visible wounds. The blood was on his fingers however, and Vergil just knew that he had done this to himself.

 

Because of him? Because he had told him that they had to be apart?

 

“What have _I_ done?”

 

His brother’s eyes were open, but he couldn’t tell if he was actually aware of what was going on around him. So he lifted him up, gently placed him onto the bed. As soon as his head hit the pillows, his whole body relaxed, and he blacked out.

 

This was his fault, his alone. He had done this to his brother.

 

Vergil had no idea what to do, but he just couldn’t stand him looking like this. He filled up a bowl with water, grabbed a towel, and started to clean the blood of his brother. There was just… so much of it. He was only alive because of his Nephilim physiology, if he were human… Vergil couldn’t think about that.

 

“Dante can you hear me?”

 

“This… this isn’t real, is it?” Dante was delirious, broken.

 

Vergil’s heart ached as he watched his brother fall apart even more, admitting to things he had guessed from his talk with the trucker. He had to sell his body to survive, had to do things no one should have to do, and Vergil’s words had almost driven him back into this world.

His first instinct was to embrace Dante, hold him tightly for fear he would fall further. He couldn’t let that happen, this, what he had caused, he needed to undo it.

If only he had realised things about himself sooner, had found out that he had a brother sooner, he could have found him, could have shared his wealth and a safe place instead he was the only one to have these things.

 

Dante had passed out again, for a good while this time.

 

He physically couldn’t bring himself to leave him. Not that there was any other place he needed to be, his brother was the single most important thing in his life. He just gently laid his brother onto the mattress, following, holding him through his uneasy sleep.

Vergil didn’t mind lying here for hours, as long as he had his brother. He needed to do something though, and that was to get him home, and to work through this. It wouldn’t be easy, and he might not be the one to do it, but there had to be a way. There simply had to be.

 

When Dante finally woke up again, and looked at him with so much sadness, self loathing and desperation, he just knew what he had to do.

 

They belonged together. He had known all along, in his heart and he should have never let himself doubt.

 

“Will you come home?”, he hoped Dante could forgive him.

 

“To be together?”

 

“Yes.” Vergil said it with all the earnest he could muster. He needed Dante to believe.

 

“I love you. Of course I’ll come.”

 

Relief washed over him at those words, they’d go home, they’d be together, and Vergil would be able to help.

 

The kiss they shared just then was similar to the one before they had slept together for the first time. When both of them knew things would change between them forever. There hadn’t been any dread or fear, at least not for Vergil. He had known that he belonged by his brother’s side and he should never have let himself doubt.

 

Dante wouldn’t remember much of the way back, as he had slept through most of it. Simply physically and emotionally exhausted, Vergil would wager, after all he had been through, and he didn’t even know all of it yet.  

They had finally come to terms with what they felt for each other. They would be together but it didn’t mean everything was okay.

 

Dante must have hidden all of those thoughts deep inside him, and Vergil had been the one to trigger them. His brother was disgusted with himself, he felt worthless and he hurt himself. Vergil gripped the steering wheel tighter at the thought.

His brother may be a jerk, but he had a heart of gold, why else would he have helped virtual strangers? He didn’t deserve any of this. That’s why he had to help him.

 

At least now his brother knew about him, too. They both weren’t perfect, Vergil hadn’t been able to keep himself together, either. Even during their time fighting demons he sometimes got those cursed panic attacks. Mostly he just shut himself away until it was over, but sometimes he had to fight through it, because they had to _fight_.

 

Vergil supported him as they silently walked up the stairs. he led him to his - their - bed, gently pushing him down as he started to resist.

 

“Rest”, he insisted.

 

Dante obeyed, but he was restless. The only time he could ever sit still was when he was with Vergil. But he could understand too well that the instinct of running away was strong within him now. These were things he had avoided for such a long time.

 

Vergil tried to get him to rest, to put him more at ease. He brought him tea and food, his own recipe for calming down, along with a gentle smile, a soft touch.

 

_I am here for you, brother_

 

“Do you want to talk?”, Vergil asked as he sat down on the edge of the bed. Close, but not touching.

 

“I…” Dante hesitated and Vergil realized he was pushing him. If he needed time before he could talk, that would just be natural.  

 

“You don’t have to if it’s too soon, I just… I do think that you need to”, Vergil said. “It doesn’t have to be me, maybe Kat or… a professional.”

 

Though with what they had gone through, with what they were, he wasn’t too sure talking to a therapist would work. They were unique. Perhaps Vergil was enough to get him through this.

 

“I want to talk… to you, if that’s all right”, Dante eventually said.

 

Vergil had waited patiently.

 

“Of course.”

 

Dante was hesitating, and Vergil could almost sense - as he had done before - how helpless he was.

 

“When did you get out of the Orphanage?”, he asked.

 

“I must have been… I don’t know, twelve?” The way his brother’s eyes almost seemed to glaze over, it seemed like he was far away. Back when he was still in that life. Vergil just watched him patiently, and he seemed like he was glad for it. “It had always felt like something was wrong and that was… the first time I was dragged into Limbo. I was so fucking scared until Rebellion was suddenly there and I just… knew what to do? If that makes sense.”

 

“It does”, Vergil confirmed. He could only understand the struggles too well. “You were so young…”

 

“I guess. It only made people more inclined to give me money when I begged for it. I mean after that I ran away of course. No fucking way would I stay with demons.”

 

Vergil nodded, encouraging him to keep talking. This wasn’t so bad, but he knew some of the things Dante had had to do, and it would only get worse.

 

“There was this group at first, but having to keep fighting demons just… it wasn’t safe and they thought I was crazy. So then I just kept to myself. I learned how to steal from them, though. Being hot gets you pretty far… I mean even then, that young… People appreciate a nice face.”

 

“You certainly have that”, Vergil said. “You never… had anywhere to go?”

 

“Well if you’re lucky you can get a spot in a shelter”, he explained. “In the summer it’s not so bad, but in the winter… There are some abandoned houses in every city that you can go to but… Well, it gets cold.”

 

Vergil wanted to reach out so badly. Wanted to make up for all he had to go through. He was safe now, with him. But he knew it must be difficult for Dante to talk about this, so he stopped his movements.

He couldn’t help think about how different it had been for him. His foster parents hadn’t been very loving people, but at least he had always had a roof over his head, he had wanted for nothing. All that was asked in return were good grades and behaviour. He would have gladly given all of that wealth up if it meant saving his brother all this pain.

 

But this wasn’t about him.

 

“When I, uh, got older and… had sex for the first time”, Dante hesitated. “I realized I could use that. I enjoyed it, and usually it gave me a place to stay for the night, sometimes even for longer if I could play them well enough. This girl even got me my coat... Except it just… wasn’t enough. If I managed to pick someone up in a bar I’d still be broke the next day. Then I realized… I could demand money.”

 

Dante took a deep breath, his hands balled into fists, clinging tightly to the sheets covering him. There was a rage deep inside Vergil, at how unfair life had been to his brother, and in some ways, their father. Why hadn’t he put them somewhere together? They could have taken care of each other.

 

“It… It wasn’t that bad”, Dante said quickly. “I… A lot of times I could basically chose who I’d fuck and I knew I could charge more because I took care of myself and… well look at me, you know?”

 

He tried to smile, but somehow it wouldn’t work. Vergil didn’t say anything, so Dante just kept going.

 

“But sometimes I couldn’t, when business was slow or a pimp had chased me off the busy corner and then I just… endured.”

 

Dante hesitated, and that glazed over look intensified. Like he was truly back there. Vergil watched as he gripped the sheets even tighter, a shudder ran through him. This almost hurt him physically, and he couldn’t even imagine what it must be like for his brother. He looked so… broken.  

 

“It was just once”, he said, not looking at his Vergil. “It was so cold, and I hadn’t eaten in days. Had just gotten back from Limbo, too, and again I was wondering if I wasn’t just fucking crazy. All the shelters were closed and I… I was fucking desperate. I was actually grateful when this guy came up to me and offered me a decent price. Almost jumped into his car but… at the motel he… he said he’d only fuck me without a condom, even offered me more money - a lot more - said if I refused he’d kick me out and call the cops.”

 

Dante was actually shivering now as if he could feel the cold of that day, but Vergil had to remind himself not to touch him, despite his instincts. He could almost feel what Dante felt, that ragged breathing of the man as he climbed on top of him, his stubby fingers all over his body.

 

His brother’s voice was shaky as he kept talking.

 

“So I… I agreed and- and I let him, let him come in me, choke me I… I wouldn’t have even had the strength to fight back.”

 

His brother was crying now and Vergil didn’t realize he was reaching out until Dante suddenly flinched back. This wasn’t helping, he was just making it worse. He forced himself to retreat, to not let it affect him

 

Dante quickly wiped away the tears, trying to keep more from coming.

 

“I… hit a low after that.” He was quiet now, barely whispering. “With the demons, the fact that no one else knew about them, I thought I was crazy, and then the hunger and… that guy I just… couldn’t deal. I hurt myself, spent so much of what I had on alcohol and the occasional drug. To be honest I only had that trailer because I got lucky at cards, could barely keep it though.

I was ecstatic in the beginning but… I just kept remembering, had to keep fighting and when I had a moment to breathe I… I… Drank until I passed out, fucked, got into fights, anything to keep me distracted to not… feel. You… you kind of saved me.”

 

He didn’t quite know how to react. Saved him? If only he had known…

 

Vergil let his hand rest on the mattress, open, an offering. Dante needed a few moments to notice, but then he slowly slipped his hand inside Vergil’s. Careful at first, but quickly grasping it tighter.

 

“I am _so_ sorry you had to go through all that”, Vergil said. “I’m so proud of you for getting through it, and not giving up.”

 

“ _Proud_?” The word got caught in his throat. If Dante had seemed like he was calming down, he certainly wasn’t anymore. Had he said the wrong thing? He meant it. “You… I… why would you…”

 

He didn’t manage to finish any of his sentences.

 

“Can I hug you?”

 

Dante sobbed at the question, only managing a nod and immediately Vergil was holding him, a pillar that he could cling to as he broke down once more.

 

Vergil hoped that talking about it had helped, that he would be able to work through it from now on. He’d never judge his brother, he had done what he needed to, he had survived, and he was proud.  

 

“I promise you”, Vergil said, his voice slightly shaky with… anger? He didn’t quite know it himself, but he was clinging so tightly to Dante it seemed like it. “I _promise_ you, you will _never_ have to do anything like this again. You’re safe now.”

 

He hoped that Dante would believe him.

 

Minutes turned into hours, during which Vergil slipped under the covers with his brother, just staying like this - together.

Until eventually, Dante fell asleep. All of this had to be exhausting him, and he hadn’t been that fit to begin with.

 

Vergil had to leave for a moment to go to the bathroom, and of course Dante woke up during that time. He looked panicked when he returned to the bedroom, scared out of his mind.

 

“Dante”, he said softly. “Sorry, I just had to go to the bathroom.”

 

“For one second I thought-” Dante shook his head, he was a little groggy and he had some trouble focusing.

 

“I won’t leave”, Vergil said, as if he could read his brother’s mind. Maybe he could, it almost felt like it. Trusting his instincts he moved closer, cupping his brother’s cheek. “I’ll always come back.”

 

“I know.”

 

“How… how do you feel?”, Vergil asked quietly.

 

Dante sighed, as if he was trying to find that out himself.

 

“Hungry”, he finally said, and they both smiled.

 

“Wait here, I’ll make you breakfast.”

 

As he was preparing it he heard his brother go into the bathroom, the soft sound of the shower turning on. This was good, he thought.

It didn’t take long for Dante to finish, and soon enough he was behind Vergil, slipping his arms around his waist. It hadn’t startled him, it seemed he could still sense his brother.

 

Who was… wearing Vergil’s sweatpants? The smile that spread on his face quickly vanished though, as he saw patches of red on his brother’s skin. He knew those too well, when he frantically rubbed over his skin to get the germs off but why would his brother do that?

Did he still feel disgusted with himself? Vergil’s stomach dropped. How could he convince him that he wasn’t worthless?

 

“This smells amazing”, Dante mumbled against his brother’s shoulder, his stomach rumbling. “You should cook more often.”

 

“I may let myself be convinced once in a while.”

 

“Hm…” Dante’s voice was quiet, weak. He would need to gather his strength.

 

“Dante?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“Breakfast is ready.” Vergil let his hand rest on Dante’s.

 

“Just a little bit longer.” Dante’s grip on him tightened. “Please?”

 

Vergil turned off the stove and now he was twisting in Dante’s embrace, turning so they could properly hug. He held his brother tightly, and right here, in the kitchen between breakfast and sweatpants he tried to convey just how much he loved him. Perhaps he was squeezing him a little bit too tight, but Dante didn’t complain, only let his head rest on Vergil’s shoulder, taking in a deep breath.

 

He hated himself for not being able to say it, even after all this. Three little words and yet… There was still something inside him, something that blocked the words from coming out. But surely… Dante knew, didn’t he?

 

“I do know”, Dante mumbled against the crook of his neck. “And also you’re squeezing me too tight.”

 

“I’m sorry.” He relaxed his grip a little, but his brother made no move, and so they stayed like this for a while longer.

 

There was definitely a connection between them. Maybe it was still the after effects of what Vergil had done to find him, maybe it was a Nephilim thing, but what mattered was that Dante knew.

 

Vergil would get there. Some day he would be able to say those words.

 

“How about that breakfast now?”, Vergil asked after a while, gently brushing through the hair at the base of Dante’s neck. “Might be a little bit cold now.”

 

“I don’t mind”, Dante said as he stepped back, his hands lingering on Vergil’s waist for just a moment longer.

 

They still hadn’t fully settled into their new place. It had been hard to find, after so much had been destroyed, new apartments were scarce. But letting it slip with the right people that they could keep the neighbourhood safe did get them one, with enough space so they could open a business even. Though Vergil hadn’t been too fond of the idea, but sooner or later they would need the money, and killing demons was what they were good at.

 

The kitchen was almost completely stocked by now, but neither of them had gotten around to buying a table so they sat down on the living room carpet to eat their breakfast. Between the clothes that were strewn around the place, the unopened boxes, it wasn’t the most relaxing, but Dante didn’t seem to mind. As a matter of fact he seemed to be completely lost in his food, gingerly trying it at first before fully digging in. Like he hadn’t eaten in days and… he probably hadn’t.

 

“Slow down, you’ll choke.” Vergil had to smile at the picture, as his brother mumbled something, which only made him drop some of the egg that was halfway into his mouth. If that’s what he looked like when eating something delicious he’d cook for him every day.

 

“Uh, that was awesome”, Dante said after he had actually licked his plate clean. He was leaning against the couch behind him now, hand resting on his stomach.

 

“Feeling a little better?”

 

Dante hesitated for a moment as he watched his brother intently - searching for something? Vergil held his gaze, he would be patient.

 

“I… think I do”, he eventually said. Sitting up again he reached up to scratch the back of his neck. “Those… those are things I haven’t thought about in a long time.”

 

“But you talked about them, that’s a good start. I’ll always be here for you if you need me.”

 

“What I need is a drink.” Dante got up to start looking through their boxes, the shelves, most likely for anything alcoholic.

 

“I don’t think this is a good idea.” Vergil followed, stopping him in his tracks to hold him by his wrists. “Dealing with this doesn’t mean drinking it away.”

 

“You’re… you’re probably right”, Dante sighed. “It’s just… difficult, losing old habits.”

 

“That’s why I’m here, you won’t have to do this alone.”

 

Dante seemed more or less stable, in the beginning. Some nights he’d still have nightmares, but Vergil held his brother through them. Sometimes they’d stay up until the early morning hours, and Dante would talk about his time on the streets. He got more and more comfortable with it, and not all of his stories were sad ones.

 

Vergil had to admit, he was impressed that despite his horrible experiences, Dante never let it ruin his enjoyment of sex. Though during their first time together after his confession Vergil had tried to be more gentle, to make sure his brother was okay with everything they did. Dante seemed to appreciate it, the words ‘I love you’ tumbling from his lips even more often. It had been different, gentle, more intimate than ever before.

 

Soon enough the two of them were able to start their work, killing demons, even enjoying it, but every once in a while, Dante would have a bad day.

 

The first time Vergil returned from the store and a short visit to Kat, all in all he hadn’t been gone for long, but it hadn’t mattered. When he got home he found Dante almost passed out on the couch, a bottle of whiskey still in his hand, though his grip was lose. Vergil dropped all of the bags he was carrying and rushed over.

 

“Dante!” He shook him by his shoulders, which made Dante lose his grip on the bottle but at the moment he couldn’t care less. “Dante, please, can you hear me?”

 

“Hm… more…” He tried fumbling for the bottle, but all he managed was wave his hand in its general direction. His speech was so slurred Vergil had trouble understanding him.

 

“Brother, why? You only had to call, to wait…”

 

He shouldn’t have left him alone, it was his fault again. Dante had seemed so stable, had seemed fine… But he should have known.

 

“‘N… stop.” Dante’s attempts to push him away were feeble, he was that far gone already. “Not… not worth it… ‘m filth.”

 

“How can you still think that?” It broke Vergil’s heart to see him like this. Talking might not make much sense right now, he might not even remember any of this, but he couldn’t just leave him. He would just have to say it again and again once he was sober. “You saved me brother… You… you’re _everything_.”

 

Those words had reached Dante, in any case, and tears started to roll down his cheeks. Vergil had seen this far too many times, but every time it hurt him more. He wasn’t doing enough to help his brother, but what else was there?

 

All he could do was make sure Dante didn’t drink more that night, or did anything to hurt himself. Vergil knew he was close to doing that, but at least he had arrived in time to stop it.

So he took care of his brother once more, making sure he didn’t choke as he threw up, made him drink water before going to bed, holding him through the night.

 

The next day Vergil made sure he found every stash of alcohol that Dante had hidden in their apartment. That he even had hidden stashes was concerning enough, but he obviously knew he shouldn’t be drinking and still… And to hide it from him when he had told Dante over and over again that he would support him.

 

It seemed that Dante had realized it was wrong, but he was overwhelmed by his feelings of worthlessness sometimes. Despite Vergil regularly getting rid of alcohol that somehow found its way into the apartment, there was always more.

 

But after a while he learned to read the signs. When Dante was even more restless than usual, when he started to pace around the apartment, to almost scratch himself so hard it drew blood, that was his cue to take his brother by his hands and lead them to their bed. Sometimes Dante would get angry, most times he would simply accept his brother holding him until his urges went away. Talking always helped, and Vergil was always ready to listen.

 

Dante had agreed to stop drinking, to seek out help when he needed it. But when Nero had arrived Vergil was still a little worried. Pressure like that… it could be enough to bring back those habits.

If Dante thought he was worthless… would he think him undeserving of a son, too? After getting over the initial shock himself, and seeing how at ease Dante was with Nero, he calmed down a little. But he still kept up his guard, as he always did.

 

A long time had passed, and Dante was getting better. His episodes got rarer and rarer until Vergil almost let himself hope that they had stopped. But he could never really be sure, as he could never be sure he wouldn’t get a panic attack ever again.

 

It was years later, Nero was sleeping on Vergil’s chest as he was reading a book - a lazy afternoon. Out of the corner of his eyes he noticed Dante shifting something behind a desk and… revealed a bottle of whiskey. Only their son stopped him from jumping up right this moment.

 

“Dante…”, he said, suddenly scared. He had been doing so well… His last episode had been well before their son had arrived.

 

“I’m just getting rid of this”, Dante replied, walking into the kitchen to empty the entire bottle. Relief washed over Vergil as his brother knelt down next to the couch to softly brush through Nero’s hair. “I don’t need it anymore.”

 

Time had made Dante finally see that he was worth something, that, to Vergil, he was worth everything.

 

“I love you brother”, Vergil said. “And I’m proud of you.”

 

“Took me long enough. I…”, he hesitated. “I’m sorry I had to put you through all this. I know it’s been a while but-”

 

“Don’t”, Vergil interrupted. “Don’t ever apologize. Needing help is never something you have to be sorry for.”

 

“Ugh, will you shut up with all this emotional crap?”

 

They grinned at each other. This was the Dante he knew.

 

Nero had woken up, but they only noticed when he was stirring on Vergil’s chest. He hadn’t made any noise, knowing that this was an important conversation. Their son was smart. He was watching them now with his big blue eyes.

 

“Hey little man”, Dante said, letting Nero grab his fingers with his demonic arm. “You think you might let me use your father’s chest too?”

 

“Hm…”, Nero looked like he was actually thinking about it for a moment. “No!”

 

“Why you little-” Dante lunged forward to tickle their son, making him burst into laughter. Nero halfway slipped from Vergil’s chest, giving Dante enough room to practically throw himself onto his brother.

 

“Ow- was that really necessary?”, Vergil asked breathlessly. Dante was halfway hanging off the couch, this couldn’t be comfortable for either of them.

 

“Yes”, Nero said, hiding his grin behind those tiny hands.

 

“You have a bad influence on your son.”

 

“Oh now he’s _my_ son?”, Dante asked, the biggest grin on his face.

 

“Ergy’s son too!”, Nero protested. They both figured he was able to say their names properly, but after Dante had gone on at length about how cute the way he said Vergil’s name was, Nero didn’t stop.

 

“Yes you are, I’m just kidding.” Vergil leaned in to press a soft kiss to his son’s head.

 

“Not funny.” Nero tilted his head slightly. That disapproving look was new.

 

But it made Dante laugh, and so Vergil immediately liked it.

 

“Our son’s first sassing, oh what a momentous day!”, he said.

 

“It truly is.” As Vergil looked at his brother he knew that they were both aware of what he was talking about.

 

The first time that Dante had touched alcohol and not abused it, had even gotten rid of it. There were no words to describe how happy it made him.

 

Their family would be okay.  

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I debated some parts of this for a very long time, as it hits quite close to home. This is pretty important to me so I just... hope that you "enjoyed".
> 
> I am fully aware that a dependency like that is not healthy, and I hope everyone else is, too. 
> 
> Dante and Vergil both need help, and if you need it don't hesitate to reach out.


End file.
